


Vulcanise When Necessary

by sleepymccoy



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angry Sex, First Kiss, M/M, and one thing leads to another, erotic asphyxiation, good fucking luck boys, i mean these two, its angry, its angry then they actually try and communicate like adults, its either hate or entirely fluff, or both really, then they fight in bones' room and make out, they hate each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:58:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymccoy/pseuds/sleepymccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I dunno if I put too much info in the tags or not enough? Should I say it's got a nice ending? That kinda gives away the ending tho? I've got no clue what I'm doing. I'll just flounder along, dw <3</p><p>Also I had trouble coming up with a title, cos my working title was just, "fight til they kiss" which is not really a title, it's a description...</p></blockquote>





	Vulcanise When Necessary

McCoy had entirely forgotten why Spock had swung by. He didn't think Spock had even said. Their conversation had quickly gone from impolite to very heated when Spock had muttered a snide comment about McCoy's supposed inappropriately timed laugh at a conference earlier. They'd angrily covered a few topics since then. 

 

“D’you have any concept of what you’re talking about?” McCoy asked angrily from across the room. “Seriously, you’ve never tried anything but the Vulcan way, you are in no position to lecture me on enjoyment.”

 

“Are you trying to imply that you have attempted to live the Vulcan way?” Spock asked condescendingly.

 

McCoy rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself slightly. “I have to pull out emotional detachment all the damn time in my profession,” he said in frustration.

 

Spock looked at him in vague amusement. “Forgive me if I remain unconvinced at your ability to maintain-” 

 

“I don’t want to maintain it,” McCoy interrupted, “It’s an unhealthy way to live, so I only  _ Vulcanise _ when necessary!” He walked towards Spock angrily. “You have never even tried for a human way of living,” he said, moving far too close to Spock and poking him in the chest, forcing him to step backwards towards the wall.

 

Spock’s back hit the wall and he glared at the angrily shaking Doctor. He leant forward, refusing to be bullied into submission. “I have succeeded in merging the two halves of my life in a way that has never before been accomplished, you would do well to remember that and back off,” Spock spat the last two words at him, barely hiding his boiling anger.

 

McCoy snarled at him, taking one last step forwards so he was pinning Spock to the wall with his body. “You think I’m impressed with your attempts?” he hissed at Spock. “You are not as delicate as you like to think, you can handle me.”

 

“And why should I wish to?” Spock asked coldly.

 

McCoy stared at him furiously, his eyes flitting around Spock’s face. McCoy’s face crumpled slightly and he felt a blush bloom across him as realised how much of Spock he was touching, how much he was pressed up against. He felt the awareness shoot down his spine, reminding him of all the times he'd thought of Spock in an entirely unprofessional way.

 

He licked his lips, glancing at Spock's. He leant in halfway, intending to give up and kiss the infuriating bastard, but the shock in Spock's eyes when he realised McCoy's intention stopped him. He eased back slightly, regretting basically every move that had led to this, mortification filling him.

 

Unexpectedly, Spock leant forward slowly and kissed him. The kiss was jarringly soft, but that only lasted a moment. McCoy pushed against Spock, grabbing his head, making the kiss harsher and forcing Spock solidly against the wall.

 

Spock growled deep in his throat and grabbed at McCoy’s hip, spinning them around and pinning him up to the wall. He pulled away from the kiss and slipped his hands up McCoy’s shirt, firmly pressing his fingertips into his pecs. “I would see you beneath me,” Spock groaned, slipping his thigh between McCoy’s and pressing in. 

 

McCoy smirked. “You think I can’t top from the bottom, darlin’?” He drawled happily, leaning forward and biting Spock on the front of his neck, restricting his breath. Spock tipped his head back and moaned. McCoy had not expected this response. “Damn, Spock,” McCoy murmured, shocked by the vocalisation. Spock began to fumble in his effort to get McCoy’s pants off. McCoy gasped as Spock’s hand slipped confidently down his pants, the back of his fingers running almost casually across his dick. 

 

McCoy thrust harshly into Spock, not at all prepared for this side of him. He groaned desperately, tipping his head forward and biting down on a tendon in Spock’s neck. “Had I known it was so easy to silence you…” Spock trailed off as McCoy swirled his hips forward, pushing Spock’s hand against his own crotch. Spock gasped, a tight curl travelling up his spine. “You are nothing but your hormonal urges,” Spock said nastily, sounding immensely pleased with himself.

 

McCoy laughed, although it sounded somewhat more like a moan. He grinned and slipped his thumbs under Spock’s waistband, pulling his pants down as he knelt between Spock and the wall, tipping his head forward and mouthing against the dick covered by his underwear. Spock let out a desperate, growling moan as he pushed forward, bracing himself against the wall. McCoy quickly and deftly slipped his fingers under the fabric, stroking tenderly along the hard length. Spock let out a surprised open mouthed moan, pushing forward, wanting more. McCoy dragged his teeth across the fabric covering Spock’s dick, looking up at him. “‘M spotting a few urges comin’ from you, too,” he said smugly. He smiled sarcastically at Spock’s furious expression and kissed his dick lightly, his lips a mocking caress.

 

Spock grabbed him by his hair and hauled him up. McCoy shouted in outrage, his hands flying to his head to protect himself. Spock eased his grip once McCoy was standing in front of him, glaring daggers. Spock ran his hand through McCoy’s hair, his caress a confusing change from the pain a moment ago. After a moment McCoy had calmed enough to respond. A thought occurred to him, a curiosity he'd noticed about Spock's responses so far. His hand struck out and held tightly onto Spock’s neck. He swung him around and pressed Spock against the wall, almost entirely cutting off his breath, leaving enough room for Spock to desperately wheeze, which he did oh so beautifully. McCoy rolled his body, slowly pressing his body against Spock’s, from legs to crotch to chests before softly and deeply kissing him, the emotion behind the kiss clashing with the firm fingers around Spock’s neck. 

 

Spock kissed him back, leaning into McCoy's hand and encouraging the kiss to go deeper. There was passion in this kiss, it was filling McCoy with want. McCoy eased his fingers back slightly, keeping them around Spock’s neck but letting him breath almost freely, the pressure enough to just remind him of their presence. Spock had slipped into an entirely submissive stance, the wall taking his weight as he lightly pulled McCoy towards him, his fingers catching weakly on McCoy's shirt, still kissing him generously, giving McCoy everything he asked for. McCoy trailed his free hand down Spock’s side and slipped inside Spock’s underpants, grasping his painfully hard dick and stroking him. Spock gasped and moaned, his head tipping forward to rest on McCoy’s shoulder. He grabbed McCoy’s hips roughly, pulling him decidedly against his own and started muttering in Vulcan, having clearly lost almost all self control for the moment. Spock kept swaying forward and backwards, in time with his weak thrusts. He would moan deeply each time he leaned in and his throat was constricted. 

 

McCoy let out a startled laugh, running a thumb up Spock’s esophagus and forcing his head up. “Erotic asphyxiation, I wouldn’t’ve called that one for you,” he said, mockingly cheerful. Spock growled quietly in response, eyes still blissfully fluttering, and forced his hands down McCoy’s pants, hurriedly running his fingers across his dick. Spock took a step forward, out of his pooled pants and forced McCoy backwards. McCoy slid his hand behind Spock’s neck to steady himself as they made their way unceremoniously toward his bed. 

 

The back of McCoy’s legs hit his bed and he fell, landing gracelessly on his ass. Spock was on his knees instantly, in a position that was fogging McCoy’s brain and making speech something he could definitely not achieve. Spock pulled his pants and underwear down in one swift movement before leaning forward quickly, so quickly McCoy wasn’t keeping up at all, and taking McCoy’s dick in his mouth.

 

McCoy let out a loud yell. “Oh, fuck!” He fell backwards. Spock dove down committedly, wrapping his lips tightly around McCoy’s cock. The wet heat was driving McCoy mad, he could hear himself getting louder as Spock mercilessly went down on him, dragging his lips around him and scraping his tongue repeatedly across his length. “Oh fuck, Spock,” McCoy groaned, writhing on the bed. Spock pushed himself down, taking McCoy to the hilt and groaned, the vibrations hitting his dick and making him shout out Spock’s name a second time in shock. Spock slowly, tantalisingly, pulled himself off McCoy’s dick and smirked, lines of saliva and pre cum stretching from his mouth to McCoy’s still throbbing cock. 

 

“Holy shit,” McCoy gasped, staring desperately down at Spock.

Spock began crawling up McCoy’s body, pushing him harshly to lie lengthways along the bed. “You are always so insistently unpleasant,” Spock muttered angrily, forcing McCoy out of his shirt before quickly removing his own. “You force emotion from me, when I would much rather live my life without-”

 

“You Vulcans and your bullshit,” McCoy interrupted, still shaking from the effect of Spock’s mouth. He pulled Spock’s underwear down, leaving them caught around his thighs, unable to reach any lower with the man hovering above him. Spock quickly kicked them the rest of the way off. “Your lifestyle is the fucking height of illogic, but you repress that knowledge, like you repress every goddamned piece of kindness in you, and-” He was cut off gasping as Spock bit his ear furiously, then roughly kissed his way down the side of his face to his mouth. McCoy grabbed wildly at Spock’s dick again, tugging it roughly and laughing into Spock’s mouth when he groaned and shuddered in response.

 

Spock batted his hand away and started grinding down desperately, sending electricity and heat through McCoy’s body. Spock kissed him, biting harshly enough to send a shot of clarity through McCoy.

 

“No, stop, stop,” McCoy said suddenly.

 

Spock froze, breathing roughly on top of him, shaking from the effort to hold himself still. “What?” he spat. 

 

McCoy took a deep breath, willing himself to stop grinding onto Spock’s leg. “I don't dislike you,” he said in hurried desperation. “Actually, I quite like you. Care about you, even. And I don't wanna hate-fuck you.” 

 

“I - What?” Spock repeated more softly. “Hate-fuck?” he repeated absurdly, his lips surrounding the words in confusion.  

 

McCoy nodded quickly. Spock saying fuck had gone straight to his dick. To be fair, most of what Spock had done in the last ten minutes or so had gone straight to his dick. But none of it had any effect on his resolve here, he was determined to not fuck up half a chance at a relationship. He also didn't want to destroy their friendship, such as it was. Even if doing so ruined the certainty of him getting rather spectacularly laid.

 

Spock lifted his body higher so they were no longer pressing so fully against each other. “I am confused…” he muttered before suddenly pushing himself off McCoy and standing naked by the bed, his dick hard and flushed green. He looked furious. 

 

McCoy wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but absolute anger wasn’t it. He grabbed a sheet, pulling it across his chest. “Spock, calm down,” he said in sad confusion. He felt the first few sharp pangs of rejection.

 

After a moment of tense silence Spock spoke, his voice a carefully controlled whisper. “You always push and prod and  _ test _ ,” he said, his face contorting as if the words were poison. “Were you so displeased with my emotional response that you must insult me until I depart? Is it not enough that I-”

 

“Insult you? You stuck up asshole,” McCoy said, spurned into a defensive fury. He swung his legs off the bed, sitting on the edge and glaring up at Spock. “I had you up against the wall by your  _ throat _ and you’re more offended that I  _ fancy you? _ ”

 

Spock looked as if he wanted to hit him. Honestly, that would probably be helpful, McCoy was in such a state of anger and panic he felt floaty. Spock spun on his heel, snarling at McCoy and stalked off, pulling his shirt on as he walked towards his pants. “So that’s it?” McCoy asked, laughing sickly. “You’re down for a nasty fuck, but nothing else?”

 

Spock turned, pants in his hand, and glared at McCoy, his face contorting. “You and your lies disgust me,” he whispered, his voice carrying in perfect clarity over to McCoy, who felt both numb and as if he’d just been stabbed. “You have no desire to date me,” Spock said, his voice dripping with contempt.

 

“Don’t you dare tell me what I want,” McCoy murmured, staring at the floor, no longer able to look up into Spock’s eyes. 

 

“What you want?” Spock repeated angrily, his tone close to yelling. “All you seem to want is a reaction from me,  _ Doctor.  _ You have achieved a number of reactions from me tonight, I hope they will satiate you for a time,” he spat, pulling his pants on awkwardly. He’d never seen Spock be awkward before.

 

McCoy stood up furiously, swaying slightly from the hard crash back to reality and clutching the sheet to his chest to keep himself reasonably covered. “You think I’m doing this to get a rise?” He yelled, heartily offended.

 

Spock tilted his head, “What was this, if not that? Is it pity? I do not want your pity,” he snarled quietly. 

  
“What do you want!?” McCoy shouted back at him. “Because it’s clearly not me, so yeah, what was this? Another empty attempt to prove your Vulcan superiority?” Spock flinched at that. “Well I’m not fucking convinced,” McCoy spat.

 

Spock placed his feet at shoulder width and squared his shoulders, staring at McCoy confidently. 

 

“Oh, look a that, I’ve prompted the god damn Vulcan stance of emotional  _ stick up the ass _ !” McCoy shouted wildly, stalking past Spock, who watched him intently, and over to the door.  “Fine, get out, fuck off,” he said in defeat, hitting the open pad by the door, making it slide open to a mercifully empty corridor. 

 

Spock walked forward slowly and paused as he passed McCoy. “I think it would be best if we did not discuss this evening again,” Spock said tightly, his voice void of any emotional ties.

 

McCoy felt drained. Completely empty. He was dreaming, surely. He shook his head lightly. “I didn’t think you had this kind of cruelty in you, Spock,” he muttered sadly. Spock’s expression snapped from his closed off, cold calm to a confused vulnerability. He turned and looked seriously at McCoy, studying him closely for the first time since they'd moved away from the bed. McCoy glanced from Spock’s eyes to his lips to the floor, where his gaze remained. He could feel furious tears threatening and decided to end this. “Out,” he snapped. 

 

After a beat Spock slowly stepped out of the room. He turned and opened his mouth to speak, but McCoy had had enough. He hit the wall panel again and closed the door in Spock’s face.

 

McCoy walked stiffly over to a chair and sank down into it, feeling drained of all emotion. Except sadness. He was just sad. He didn't entirely feel like he was here.

 

At least ten minutes passed before he moved again. He stood up and silently pulled his pants on and poured himself a shot of whisky on the rocks. As he sat back down he glanced at the wall where he and Spock had jacked each other off. There was a small pile of fabric at the bottom. Spock’s underwear. He must have dropped them in his rush to get dressed. He’d left his goddamned underwear behind. McCoy suddenly felt sick to the stomach. He spent the next twenty minutes staring emptily at his glass, watching the ice melt as he drank none of his whisky. 

 

The door alert beeped. McCoy ignored it. There was no one on this ship he wanted to talk to right now, and Jim or Scotty would fuck off soon enough without taking any real offence. After two more beeps McCoy was getting exasperated. As the fourth went off he yelled, “Fine, enter!” 

 

Spock walked in. McCoy was stunned into silence for a moment. He took a swig of his drink, deciding that he would definitely need the assistance, and grimaced at the watered down, lukewarm liquid.

 

“Didn't think I'd be seeing you again tonight,” he said gravelly. 

 

“I believe I may have misjudged our earlier conversation,” Spock said. He hadn't looked at him yet. McCoy suddenly realised he was still shirtless. Damn. Spock, it seemed, had even re combed his hair. 

 

McCoy laughed, deciding that enough composure on his part would throw the Vulcan off. Let him think his wasn't the first mouth McCoy had had his dick in on this ship. “I don't think I'd call much of what we did earlier ‘conversation’,” he said, swirling his cup and watching the liquid closely. 

 

“I believe I misunderstood your intention,” Spock said, ignoring McCoy's comment. 

 

McCoy tried not to laugh at that. “I think I was pretty damn clear,” he muttered,

 

Spock shook his head minutely, his brows pinching. “You were sincerely asking for a relationship?” Spock asked quietly, his voice carrying across the room easily. 

 

McCoy sighed and put his glass down. Time to relive the shit storm. Well, at least Spock hadn’t given him time to process or calm down, that’d be far too fair. “Yes,” he said sadly, glancing up at Spock’s statue still face. “But don’t worry about it, I think you’ll be easy enough to get over,” he said calmly, determined to punish the composed Vulcan bastard.

 

Spock was silent for a moment, studying McCoy’s face intently. He nodded and said, “I did not believe you at the time.”

 

“Why the fuck would I lie about something like that?” McCoy asked coldly. It wasn’t like crushing on Spock was doing wonders for his self esteem, the man dismissed him at every opportunity.

 

“From my understanding of the available data, I extrapolated that you were constructing a joke at my expense,” Spock said stiffly.

 

McCoy laughed bitterly. “Who fucked you up so badly that you’d assume that?” He asked. Although, that did make a certain amount of sense. And it explained Spock’s returning here now, rather than ignoring the situation as he’d originally suggested. 

 

“That is none of your business, Doctor.”

 

They fell silent for a moment. McCoy finished his drink, thinking over what Spock had said. Presuming Spock was honest (and he very rarely told an outright lie), he was most likely here to apologise for the shit he’d said earlier. Try and get them back to a working relationship. McCoy had a few questions for him first, of course, namely why did a blow job occur. And how much of what Spock had said was sincere. But first, there was one issue pressing on McCoy’s mind.

 

“Ok, I gotta ask. Are you wearing underwear? Cos you left yours over there,” he said, pointing to the wall where Spock’s underwear lay. Spock followed his finger, saw the pile of fabric and blushed quite a pretty colour. “Holy shit, you’re not, are you?” McCoy hadn’t actually expected that one. He’d assumed Spock had gone back to his quarters and burnt all his contaminated clothes.

 

Spock glanced at him, looking pointedly at his chest. “You are not wearing a shirt,” he said, smirking.

 

McCoy looked at the floor, entirely embarrassed. Was Spock flirting with him? He wasn’t sure what to do with that. “True,” he managed to say. He picked his sheet off the ground and pulled it around him, trying to deflect Spock’s gaze. His cheeks were burning.

 

Spock walked over to the wall and picked up his underwear, slipping them into his slim pocket. He turned and walked back over to McCoy, standing by the table, far closer than he had been before. “You said you care for me,” Spock murmured.

 

McCoy sighed again, any levity disappearing from the room immediately. “Why are you here?” He asked in defeat.

 

“I am here to ask you out on a date. If you would still have me,” Spock whispered.

 

McCoy spun his head to look at him far too quickly. “What?” He asked loudly.

 

“You said you like me. I like you too,” Spock said, looking at the wall behind McCoy. “And I care for you. I regret my actions this evening, and I regret my words more.”

 

“That - You -“ McCoy tried to say something, anything. He failed. “Hm…”  

 

After a few second of McCoy’s wide eyed, wild stare, Spock nodded slowly and stepped backwards. “I will not press you for an answer,” he said, walking towards the door.

 

McCoy leapt out of his seat, dropping his protective sheet, and chased him down, grabbing Spock’s shoulder and spinning him around. “Don’t you leave again,” he hissed. Spock stilled, allowing McCoy to manhandle him. McCoy eased his grip on Spock’s arm, letting his thumb run small circles into his bicep. He found he was studying Spock’s throat, watching his apple bob as he swallowed. “Say it again,” he whispered hoarsely. He looked up at Spock’s eyes, taking in the fear there.

 

“I care for you,” Spock repeated quietly. 

 

McCoy stepped forward, his hand still on Spock’s arm. “How long?”

 

“Over a year.” Spock’s head dipped down as his eyes flickered between McCoy’s eyes and lips. 

 

“Huh,” McCoy grunted dumbly.

 

“I did not believe there was any chance of you reciprocating, hence my confusion when you stopped our… activities,” Spock said hurriedly

 

McCoy nodded slowly. “Yes I can see how that would be confusing,” he said mildly. “Um, sorry for anything nasty I said.”

 

“That is quite alright.” They were standing far too close to one another.

 

“Oh. Ok. I don't really remember what I said to be perfectly honest.” Why was he talking? He should be making a move or something.

 

“You have said worse, Doctor,” Spock murmured lowly, his head tipping closer to him. 

 

McCoy wanted to kiss him. A lot. But he kept seeing Spock’s furious, offended face and he doesn’t want to invite that back. “I'm struggling to trust you here, Spock,” he said.

 

Spock blinked. “Understandable,” he said and leaned back, clearly shifting his expectations.

 

McCoy gripped his arm, keeping him in place. “So, ah, leap of faith,” he said, looking deep into Spock’s sad eyes. “You let me know if I go too far, yeah?”

 

Spock didn’t respond for a moment, so McCoy shook his arm, making it clear he wanted consent. This wasn’t going to go down like it did earlier. “Yes,” Spock said. 

 

“You better not be fucking with me,” McCoy muttered.

 

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “I assure you, I am not,” he whispered.

 

McCoy nodded. “Good.” He raised his arm, resting his free hand on Spock’s cheek, his thumb brushing across Spock’s sharp cheek bone. After a moment he leant in and kissed him softly. 

 

Spock pushed back, trying to force the kiss deeper. McCoy held his head in place and kept their lips light and tender, kissing Spock carefully. He pulled away after less than a minute. “Good?” McCoy asked breathily.

 

Spock opened his eyes, his pupils blown wide. “Yes, good,” he said breathily. McCoy smiled kindly and leaned in to kiss him again. Spock's hands crawled up and rested softly on McCoy's waist, not holding him, just touching. McCoy slid his hand from Spock's arm to the back of his head, blending his fingers in with Spock's hair. 

 

After a few more seconds of some truly sweet kisses McCoy pushed them apart again. “We still g-?”

 

“Good,” Spock interrupted, pulling McCoy back quickly, holding his body close. McCoy let out a startled laugh, grinning against Spock's soft lips. 

 

After a while McCoy pulled back again. Spock glared at him but he just laughed him off. 

 

“Tea?” he offered.

 

Spock rolled his eyes. “Yes, that would be pleasant,” he said grudgingly. As McCoy walked past him he could have sworn he saw a smile flit across the Vulcan’s face. 

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno if I put too much info in the tags or not enough? Should I say it's got a nice ending? That kinda gives away the ending tho? I've got no clue what I'm doing. I'll just flounder along, dw <3
> 
> Also I had trouble coming up with a title, cos my working title was just, "fight til they kiss" which is not really a title, it's a description...


End file.
